My Medicine
by yiyjfgyty
Summary: All he ever wanted was his Kitten. /Miego/ /Drug References/ /ITSNOTAONESHOTOMFG./ Review so I know that you're reading it//I should add more chapters. ;D
1. Chapter 1

((A.N:// To avoid confusion, I'm signing all of my Phoenix Wright fanfictions off with my CR username, too.

For whatever reason, I decided not to refer to Godot by either of his names except once in this morbid little fic of mine. AND IT SHALL HAVE CHAPTERS. OH YES, YES IT SHALL. Not that many, mind you, but I swear on the Bible of Gant RAEP that it shall! :B))

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Public Pervert/xMr.Tritex

The endless sighing coming from the white-haired man filled the empty rooms of his apartment like a lone ghost. Rooms that, not so long ago yet seemed like an eternity ago, were once filled to the brim with laughter and jazz music blasting from the large black speakers that the man purchased right after he had won his first case as a defense attorney. A defense attorney…something that he had loved being. Along with her. His kitten. His Mia.

His Mia. Those lovely brown eyes the color of a latte and her hair, silky like the white, pure milk that he poured into his favorite beverage- Although he liked it dark, a little milk didn't hurt every now and then. Sometimes, in the harsh, black, sleepless nights where he blindly twisted and turned in his sheets, he could feel her soft, tempting lips against his own and her perfectly slim hands running through his messy stands of dark brown. They would often talk themselves to sleep; sometimes she'd laugh or cry as she told him about what had happened to her that day, or even recollect memories from her childhood.

And now? Now, now it was all gone.

The man, sitting on the wooden floor of his apartment, rested his head on the arm of his black leather couch, a small lump forming inside of his throat as his memories flooded him like a tsunami. He pushed the feeling to cry away, gripping at the green sleeves that made up his shirt; He had cried his tears. He didn't need them anymore. After all, he had something better than tears now. _Much_ better.

He reached under the black couch blindly- Which was quite a literal description. His metallic visor lay on the well-used coffee table directly across from him, glaring at him coldly as he searched. "Look at yourself." It seemed to spit at him, "Look at what you've become. Pathetic. Is it any wonder why you lost her, Diego?" The older man retorted with a "Shut up." To speak to his visor seemed insane, yes, but it was comforting to take his anger out on something that _wasn't_ himself every once and a while. However, the visor's cold words were soon to mean nothing to him as a thin smile curled onto his lips, his hands gripping onto the thin box he had been searching for this whole time, sliding it closer to the light of his apartment.

He uncovered the turquoise green box in a rush, removing it's contents, his heaven- A painful looking needle and a powdery white substance in a bag were present in the box, along with a small container of a pale yellow liquid- lemon juice. Also present was a spoon, a lighter and a cigarette filter. The tan man had already prepared a glass of water- not much bigger than a shot glass- and a black leather belt. Placing the box on the table, the man reached for his visor, placing it over his eyes as best he could for a split second- The world suddenly sharpening and becoming clear to him, gaining everything back except the color red. Ah, red- his favorite color.

Almost immediately, the man opened the bag containing the power, placing it on the spoon in the measurement he normally wanted- No, he decided. _Needed _After that, squirts of the lemon juice and water were placed onto the same spoon, acting as a citric acid of sorts. Flicking the lighter open, the white-haired prosecutor placed the metal utensil over the source of heat, the warmth of the flame reminding him of his once young heart, his love flaring whenever he saw _her_. _No time for that now_ he decided. He was a man on a mission. Plus, he'd have her back soon.

Once the substances were completely mixed, the man placed the cigarette filter onto the spoon, removing the spoon away from the flame. Lifting the needle, he placed the filter and its contents onto the syringe. Taking the belt, he tied it firmly around his arm, wincing in pain as he tightened the leather belt. Before doing anything else, he brought the visor off of his face, discarding it beside it, forever wishing it he could one day do that and still be able to see. Permanently. As for the time being, he wouldn't need the thing anymore, or at least not for a while.

He shut his eyes as he brought the needle closer to his arm, giving out a shaky breath as the cool sting of the needle brought itself present in all of its familiarity- It had been months now since he had first prescribed The Medicine to himself, and the injection process didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the first time. However, this didn't stop the few tears that dropped from his blank eyes as his mind went hazy, the symptoms of taking The Medicine starting up.

_Please,_ he prayed mentally, the cool droplets making a dripping noise once they hit the smooth wood flooring on his apartment,

_Please bring my Kitten back to me._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A fanfiction by: Public Pervert/xMr.Tritex

He opened his eyes slowly, bright lights shining through the open window of his apartment bedroom, the red curtains pulled back to reveal the beautiful summer day. Red…The man in bed smiled peacefully, raising his left hand to the light that poured through the window, shutting one eye as the brilliance seeped into his still sensitive eyes. Red.

He had been here before, thanks to the Medicine. Yes- Once again, it had done its job successfully. Taking the same hand, the prosecutor- well, defense attorney- ran his fingers through his spiked hair, strands of it falling into his coffee brown eyes. He was greeted not by the wintry white hues of a stormy tundra, but rather by locks of black, making his smile grow even wider, slightly dopy.

This wasn't his home. Well, not anymore. No, now he lay in the bed of Twenty-seven year old Diego Armando, a defense attorney working under Marvin Grossburg, who was obsessed with two things: Coffee, and Mia Fey. Yes, he was a man that could have truly been described as 'happy'. But, he had unfortunately died long ago, in a tragic accident in a court café. Maybe that was the true price of happiness- To lose everything.

As a matter of fact, all that was left of Diego Armando was a soulless body, deprived of anything and everything he had once cherished except his coffee, which held a hell that, with every sip, could almost match the one that the prosecutor lived every single day.

Suddenly, a slim figure moved besides him, under the white sheets that donned the bed he lay in. If it wasn't for the fact that he had taken the Medicine almost every day, he would have jumped; he could remember jumping the first few times she moved under his arm. However, he knew this memory now like he knew the back of his hand, even without his cherished Medication; this illusion replayed his head every single day, like the movie that played before the prosecutor's eyes now. He watched as the male defense attorney put on a warm smile as the mystery figure's head popped out from under the covers, a sleepy smile present on her delicate face. "Diego…?"

The man ran his hands through her long, brown hair, messy with the sleep she had obviously just awoken from. "G'morning, Kitten."

The tan defense attorney bent his head down and kissed the top of his lover's head, causing her sleepy smile to grow, a blush forming on her cheeks. She wrapped her nimble arms around his neck childishly, smiling softly as she looked into his eyes. The young woman didn't say anything else for a while, hypnotized by his cocky yet handsome charm. Finally, her lips moved, emitting a sound that reminded Diego of the church bells that ran as he drove to work every day, signaling that he was late. "Didn't you say you had somewhere to go today?"

At this, something inside of the man suddenly clanged- Not a bell, but more like a giant gong being struck by the rear of an elephant. "Oh, dammit!"

Now, Diego hadn't told Mia _all_ of his plans for that day, per say. Just that he had plans in the court café with a 'very special woman.' He remembered what the woman's face looked like when he said that to her for the first time, a week ago; the jealously and anger etched into her brow should have given him enough warning for the sudden punch across the face, knocking him backwards. While slipping in and out of consciousness, the defense attorney explained himself- It wasn't a love interest, just a client. That's all he could remember from that day expect waking up to a later teary-eyed Mia, begging forgiveness… despite her ongoing laughter.

And today, Diego realized as he snaked his way out of Mia's grasp and out of bed, clad in only in a pair of gray boxers, was that day. He opened up his closet, removing the normal attire- A red shirt and tan vest, along with a pair of black pants. He pulled the shirt over his head (Mr. Armando was one for showering at night), then the vest as he explained. "The meeting shouldn't take _too_ long, Kitten- I hope you don't get all that lonely without me!" He snickered as he pulled on his pants, the brown-haired woman sticking her tongue out at him. "Just remember to buy some more milk; we're out." At this, Diego laughed and walked over to his girlfriend. "How could I expect a kitten to think of anything other than milk?" he asked, grabbing a silver earring off of his- no, their- dresser. Suddenly, he planted a firm kiss on her lips and pulled away from his darling Mia, her face showing shock as it turned about as red as the fabric that made up the defense attorney's shirt. "I promise I'll come home with about five gallons if that's what you want!"

Xxx

"More coffee, Mr. Armando?"

The white mug was extended to him kindly by the red-haired woman, who gave him a sweet smile. But, Diego could smell a rat a mile away. He knew that, much last fast-food diners, the smile she put onto her face was about as real as the sugar in the little pink packets.

Behind that smile, he knew, was a heart colder than any coffee as to him that had been left sitting for more than four minutes, maybe less. He took the coffee cautiously, all the while looking into the sickly sweet face of the young woman, a pink and white parasol held over her head like a delicate China doll. He took a sip and then looked into the dark, swirling brew, stricken with confusion as he swallowed. "This coffee tastes like death…Is it decaf?"

The last thing he heard that day was the low, sinister chuckling of Dahlia Hawthorne.

Xxx

The scene faded to black, shocking the prosecutor as a blend of different colors appeared in the abyss he was thrown into. Was the Medicine prolonging the memory? Maybe to his funeral? No…no, it wasn't. This didn't normally happen. Yet, he knew that he wasn't awake just yet. After all, his body was numb, completely numb. And…he couldn't move…

_Thunk. _Went the prosecutor as he fell over, hitting his head hard on the coffee table. Ah. The Medicine was going into one of its more 'deadly' symptoms.


	3. Chapter 3

My Medicine

By: PublicPervert/xMr.Tritex

Quiet murmurs filled his ears as the white-haired prosecutor slowly awoke, his pale eyes fluttering open from his spiraling nightmare, instantly blinded by the bright lights that filled his eyes as he opened them- much brighter than the sunlight had had flowed in from his bedroom window- No, Diego's bedroom window. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn't the lights themselves, but rather due to his eyes, which stared blankly up at the blaring lights. After all, his last state of mind was pitch black, save the spiraling lights that had slithered slowly across his unconscious mind, all in different colors, like Christmas lights- Green…blue…_red_…

Was he dead?

His head heavy, the prosecutor sat up for a better view, moaning softly as he did so, due to the sudden pain shooting through his head- Was it a side effect of the medicine, or that nasty fall he took? Oh yes, he remembered grimly, that as something he remembered.

The action of sitting up caught the attention of three other people in the room, dressed in- From what the man could tell- all white, their faces and bodies young. Could they be angels? However- It was unfortunate, he felt, as they neared closer, a sick smile crossed the man's face. Ah. The bastards had kept him from death once more.

He sank back into the bed slowly, a disappointed sigh escaping him as the three young doctors scurried to his 'aide', the clanging of medical syringes and trays on wheels ripping through the small ICU room, making the man in the bed twitch slightly. He knew that the syringes on the tray did not contain _his_ Medicine, but rather their own, all of them obviously intent on giving him the health care that he so dearly detested.

Didn't they see it?

He shook his head slightly as the trio did their trivial actions- checking his pulse, etc.- in order to check his health. They were young. They must have not realized that some people just didn't want to be saved.

Wait. Maybe, he thought with a smile, this was simply just an illusion. He _saw_ the doctors- Interns, probably. And he _saw_ the hospital lights. So, he _saw_ when he raised a free hand to his white hairline, smirking slightly. But, he realized with a sinking heart, he did not see but _felt_ his disappointment when his callous fingers touched cool metal- The metal of his visor. He sighed again with aggravating, looking over to the left at the two interns. Hmm. One…two… "Hey."

The two interns looked up at their blind patient from the brown clipboards held in front of their faces. Neither one of the two spoke for several minutes, but then a meek-looking woman answered him, her voice as tiny and shy as a baby lamb. "C…Can I help you, sir?" The prosecutor nodded. "Well, not really- I don't want to be helped, lady. However, I'd like to know where that other guy went."

Shock in her mud brown eyes, the woman repeated "That other guy? Do you mean… Dr. Shin?" The prosecutor gave her a grin, shrugging once. "Yeah, sure. Why not? Tell me, where _is_ Dr. Shin, and…" From the bed, the man waved his hand at the meek woman and she neared closer, like he was sharing a secret with her. Once she was close enough, however, he grabbed her by the collar of her maroon sweater, bringing her face so close to his that their noses were practically touching. Her eyes were wide behind a pair of thin-framed glasses as his words came out slowly, almost as if his vocal chords were dipped in a vat of molasses. "How….The _hell_…Did I wind up in this damned hospital?"

Before the scared woman could speak out, however, the door to the ICU room slammed, causing the white-haired man to let go of his frightened hostage, backing up into a tray holding medical syringes. The other intern, a man with dirty blonde hair tied in a ponytail quickly came to her aide as the doctor that just walked in took a stride to the foot of the prosecutor's bed, gray hair ever-present in his originally dark brown beard, followed by the young doctor from before- Dr. Shin, was it?- A Korean man in his mid-twenties with bleached orange hair. The patient scowled at the obviously older doctor, looking away as he closed his eyes behind that mechanical visor he was famed for. "Hello, Dr. King."

The man acknowledged as Dr. King gave a long, heavy sigh, which seemed to fill the entire room. "And a good day to you, Mr. Armando. How are we feeling today?" When the doctor got no reaction from his stubborn patient, he repeated himself. "Mr. Armando?" Finally, the prosecutor spoke, still looking away. "Doctor, I know you're an extremely egotistical man, but just because you're a doctor doesn't mean you can speak to the dead."

The man's eye doctor gave an angry huff, walking over to his patient's side of the bed where he so childishly tossed his head away from him, grabbing his chin and pointing the white-haired man's face upwards, looking him in the eye. "Listen, Mr. _Godot_." He practically spat, getting no emotion from the visor-clad prosecutor. "I'm getting sick of your _games._ I'll call you by what you want, but keep in mind that I'm not obligated to do so, considering you never actually _bothered_ to get your name changed. Despite your whining, it still says 'Diego Armando' on your birth certificate." After a long silence, the patient piped up, his infamous grin present on his bearded face.

"Ah, Doctor, I believe it alsosays 'Diego Armando' on a death certificate somewhere, doesn't it? It's hanging up on my bedroom wall; really, you should come see it some time." The doctor's angry glare didn't shut up the prosecutor, nor wipe that consistent smirk off of his face. "Also, I doubt it says 'Dr. King on _your_ Birth Certificate, so I'm plenty liable to call you Leon, aren't I?" When the doctor didn't respond, his cocky grin seemed to grow fairly larger. "Now, good Doctor Leon King, why don't you tell me what I'm doing here?"

From behind the foot of the bed where the eye specialist once stood, the young Korean doctor cleared his throat, causing both the men to look over at him, a clipboard held in his fine hands. "Please Dr. King, allow me to explain." His intellectual, slanted eyes looked down at the brown clipboard he held to his chest, the medical papers attached a definite truism. "Mr.Arma—"

The glaring from the prosecutor's cool visor stopped the young doctor in his tracks, correcting himself. "—Mr. Godot, according to our tests you suffered from a slight black-out after you had a drug overdose and hit your head, most likely your coffee table." For such a young man, the face of the intern was stern as he looked at the prosecutor in the bed (Who, at the word, was seriously craving a pot of coffee), his sharp eyes narrow as he spoke. "Are you an idiot, or something? You could have died, you know."

At this, the prosecutor scoffed. "Really, kid? You know, considering my age, you'd obviously know that I think heroin is 'groovy' and 'far-out', right?" He smirked at his own joke as he continued. "Come on, pretty la—err, boy, get it together: Why else do you think I was taking it? I mean, nobody _wants _to die, right?" To the four others in the room, it was obvious that the prosecutor had one fatal flaw: He was a complete jackass.

"Now," started the prosecutor as he rose out of bed, clad in a paper patient's gown, little pink diamond shapes imprinted on it, "Tell me how I got here…Oh, and knowing where my clothes are would be good, too." This time, it was the blonde man that responded, icy dark blue eyes shining with wit as he continued. "Let's make a deal, Godot: We tell you what you want, and you stay here with us as we study you." In response, the white-haired man smirked once more as he walked over to the confident man, clapping a tan hand on his shoulder like a father would do to reward his son.

"Like the sun that rises over the Earth come daybreak, I know my path as well as yours." When he received blank stares from all four in the room, he continued. "To put it in terms that you can understand- Due to the fact you seem like a manipulative jerk, you're going to make a _fabulous _doctor one day. And, as for me…" He pushed past the blonde intern, heading for the door out of the ICU room, "I can call a cab from one of the pay phones around here- Considering you doctors have more matter in your pockets then in your brains, I'm sure I can find some spare change around here, maybe borrow a few bucks from the nice secretary. I'll go home and change there, then find out how I came here. Since I'm a prosecutor, I'd expect a speedy law case against you for not helping a patient- I might even get away with prosecuting the case!" As he head towards the door he looked back, his visor shining in the hospitals lights and he taunted "See you in court."

Walking down the hallway with a hot brew in mind, he was stopped in his tracks as a clean voice rang clear in his ears.

"Wait!"

Turning to look back, he saw a flash of orange shining from the door he just walked out of: Dr. Shin.

"We have your clothing back here, in the ICU room. And as for getting here…When you're as famous of a prosecutor as you are, and considering your past, it's not hard for rumors to spread about you finding..._other_ ways of healing. The bellboy at your apartment thought you were acting weird, and went to go check up on you…_That_, sir, is why you're here."

After a long silence, the prosecutor spoke. "What do you want out of me?"


	4. Chapter 4

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: PublicPervert/xMr.Tritex

_I can't believe I'm doing this._

This is what the prosecutor thought as he glared out the taxi window, the city racing by him in one blur of color. The white-haired prosecutor sighed angrily as he watched the different buildings and people whiz past him in the surprisingly empty streets. He tore his eyes away from the sights and looked over at the man that sat next to him in the other seat, with a scowl on his face. He hated him already.

The young man looked over at him eventually, feeling the prosecutor's icy glare like a slap to the face. He flicked his bleached orange hair out of his slanted eyes, marking his Korean heritage. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Godot?" he asked, resting his chin in his left hand, arm resting on a folded knee, dressed in a dark red sweater and black dress pants. At this, the prosecutor shook his head, shrugging as he looked back to the window, seeming completely absorbed in watching a young Labrador retriever going to the bathroom against a planted tree, barely a sapling. _How depressing_, he thought to himself. "Just you, pretty boy." Dr. Kyung Shin smirked at his patient, eyes glinting as he spoke.

"You know," he started, looking up at the taxi's gray roof whimsically, "Dr. King told me you'd be a little something like this. Said to just ignore you and just let you talk to yourself- The only person that seems to care about what you're saying." He chuckled a bit, and the white-haired man only stared at him, his right eye twitching slightly behind his metallic visor. "You're a sadistic son of a bitch, aren't you?" At this, the younger man gave a slight grin, showing no offense.

"Dr. King _also_ told me to not get _too_ offended by that smart-ass tongue of yours. According to him, you just don't know how to warm up to people, so you lash out. Called you a 'lunatic' a few times, too. Just thought I'd, y'know, put that out there." The prosecutor grew quiet, a smirk slowly but surely forming on his face. Oh. This kid was _good_.

"This the stop?" From the wheel of the taxi, a burly man learned back to face the odd pair, unseen eyes glinting behind a huge pair of black aviator sunglasses. The prosecutor nodded, strands of his snow-white hair falling over his metallic visor like leaves on an autumn day. He hastily reached into his black pants- After striking a deal with the hospital, he had received his clothing back, much to the relief of the prosecutor. Suave as always, he had no desire to walk around in a paper hospital grown with pink diamonds on it, thank you very much.

The two stepped out of the stopped cab carefully, trying to avoid the puddles littered on the sidewalk that had formed from, what Dr. Shin had told him before the two arrived, a light rain that had occurred while the prosecutor was unconscious. Looking up at the clouds, it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was soon to rain again. The prosecutor turned to face the young Korean doctor, no smile present on his face. He continued to say nothing as he walked up the stairs to the door of his apartment, keys already in his tan hands. He placed the single key in the silver lock on the rounded door knob and turned it, opening the door. He stepped inside after withdrawing his keys and locked the door as he shut it, leaving the young doctor outside.

And he smirked.

" Mr.Godot? Mr.Godot!" The young doctor whacked on the door from outside, obviously angry at the prosecutor's cruel trick, even more so as a light drizzle started up. "Let me in, dammit!" Walking towards a window in the next room, the white-haired man opened it, sticking his out of the opening to look at Dr. Shin, that ever-present smirk almost gleaming against the gray tinting of the day, his styled hair growing wet and falling over his face. "I guess," he started, his eyes glowing behind his visor, 'It takes an asshole to know an asshole, huh?" The young doctor's mouth hung open as the prosecutor pulled one more immature stunt before pulling his head back inside; Slowly, he stuck his tongue out of his mouth. The prosecutor blew a childish raspberry before leaving the poor doctor alone in the cold.

xxx

"And _this_, Mr. Godot, is why we don't have any friends."

Dr. Ky Shin stood in front of the annoyed prosecutor like a mother scolding her troublesome child, both hands on his narrow hips. "You're lucky that you left the back door open, or you would have had a broken window to fix." The prosecutor smirked, despite the scolding.

"Yeah, right," he dared, "I bet you couldn't even work a coffee grinder." The prosecutor's feet rested on the wooden coffee table that he had hit his head on a mere few hours ago, sipping a dark brew of coffee from his favorite white mug, taking the doctor's threats like he would a slap from a six month old.

"Anyway, how about you do your job and get out of my apartment? I have cases to look over and a certain Trite to beat tomorrow in court, and I have no time for your foolish games." The younger man looked at his patient like he was the most grotesque being on the face of the Earth before he sighed angrily, placing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know what's eating at you, considering you agreed to this in the first place. Trust me; once you show me around, I'll gladly leave you to your 'Trite beating' or whatever you called it." At this, the prosecutor rose to his feet, the white coffee mug still in his hands. "Fine." He said, walking out of his living room in means of an invitation, "Let's get going, shall we?"

It had been a stupid plan, thought the blind man as he showed the doctor to his kitchen, the orange-haired man opening pots of coffee beans and looking in draws, filling a black garbage back with any Medical supplies he could find- His needles, the citrus juices, even the powdery Medicine itself. Truthfully, he had only agreed to it so he wouldn't have to walk around in a paper patient's robe. _Would it have even been so bad? I just needed a taxi to take me home. _

Dr. Shin was to escort him home from the hospital and be shown around his 'humble home' so he could find any of his precious Medicine and dispose of it back at the hospital, then check up on the prosecutor from time to time to see if he had purchased or taken any more. The blind man was also to return for some randomly scheduled drug tests, to see if he had been listening. If the good doctors found any drugs in his system- Even just once-, the prosecutor would have to go to a rehabilitation center to kick the habit. A scar on his career, he thought. Something in which he couldn't afford if he wanted to defeat Trite in court. However, he doubted that would happen. Drugs? Ho ho. It was simply some self-prescribed medication, nothing more.

The two were in the man's bedroom now, the doctor's garbage bag now at least half-way filled with needles, juices, a few lighters, and the precious medicine itself. Dr. Shin instantly moved towards the prosecutor's dark wooden desk, eyeing something in praticuler. From behind his silver visor, the prosecutor rolled his eyes. Oh, boy. Here we go.

"Whose this?" The orange-haired man held a wide, silver picture frame in his thin hands, smiling a little as he looked down at the picture it contained. It was a photograph of a young woman with long brown hair, short bangs worn on the right side of her head, but absent on the left. Bright brown eyes flashed intellectually from her narrow face, a tiny black beauty mark present under her confidently smiling lips, more over on the left side of her face. She was giving a thumbs up in the photo, her yellow scarf falling softly over her outstretched arm, covering the string that held an interesting purple jewel worn over her chest. If Kyung Shin hadn't been sleeping for well over half the _Mystical Arts_ class he took in college, he would have instantly recognized it right away as a Magatama, a sign of the legendary Fey Clan. The prosecutor looked away as he examined the photo, finding a very interesting black mark in the floor. "She's my…little sister."

The doctor nodded. "She's very beautiful. And I'm guessing the man behind her is your younger brother? You two look very similar- Actually, if it wasn't for your hair color, I would have guessed you two were twins!" The tan man didn't have to look over at the photo to know who the doctor was referring to. "Yeah." He said quietly, moving to his ship-shape bed to sit on. "He died a few months after that picture was taken." The doctor simply placed the frame back on the desk, like he picked up a valuable treasure. "I'm sorry." He said under his breath as he moved around, collecting whatever supplies he could find before standing up with the black garbage bag in his hands. From the looks of it, it had grown quite heavy.

"Well," stated the doctor, brushing the dirt of his black dress pants, "I guess I'm done here. We'll call you a day of two before your next check up, okay?" The older only glared in response. Giving up, the doctor only shook his head and shrugged walking out of the room, showing himself out.

xxx

Five minutes had passed after the young doctor left before the prosecutor picked his head up, letting himself slide off of the bed, moving the olive blanket that lie on top of those cursed white sheets slightly- He had planned to throw them out after Mia had left him, but could never bring himself to do it. So, he slept on the couch instead.

He stuck his head out of the bedroom door, turning his head both ways as if checking for something. Yes, the doctor had actually left him. Perfect.

Bringing his whole body back into his tidy bedroom, he moved toward the silver picture frame, shutting the door. He stared at the two people in the photograph for the longest- They were so _innocent_, he realized at last, giving the two defense attorneys a thoughtful glance. Yet, they were so, so foolish. How could they not know that happiness never lasted?

Flipping the frame upside-down in his hands, the white-haired man unclipped the frame's black bottom from the silver part so it came loose, the picture fluttering to the hardwood floor face-down, revealing the blank side of the photograph, which was as white as the circular pills taped to the other side of the frame's bottom. He removed five, leaving countless others waiting to be swallowed as he placed the bottom piece down on his desk. Ha. Amateur.

He put all five of the pills in his mouth at once, taking a swing of coffee to wash them down as he moved back to his bed, lying down- They weren't his normal Medication but hell, it was close enough.

And he waited.


	5. Chapter 5

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: PublicPervert/ Mr.Trite

Diego grinned cockily as he stared at her, planting a delicate kiss on Mia's shoulder as she giggled to herself, pulling the defense attorney closer to her almost bare body, much to the delight of Mr. Armando. He reached up, pulling at one of the straps of his lover's lacy pink and white bra, humming softly. "This one's my favorite." He said this with a sly grin, kissing the bra's strap as Mia ran her fine fingers though his black spiky hair. Although he couldn't see it, she rolled her eyes in the darkness. "That's what you say _all_ the time." Diego simply shrugged. "So? They're_ all_ my favorite. Is that such a crime?"

They were lying in Diego's bed, the night's air presenting itself into the room, even with the blinds closed and all the lights off. They had been dating for three months now, and to say the least, Diego was happy. Much happier, in fact, then he had ever been. Oh, that wasn't to say he was never happy- After all, Diego could never imagine himself _not_ being happy. However, with Mia, it was more than just happy- If he could, he'd splurge out all the words he could for it, and _still_ wouldn't be able to describe it.

"Hey, Kitten." He cooed, "Let's have a baby."

A quick slap to the face was his reply.

Diego's hand went to the side of his face, in a mixture of shock and slight humiliation as he rubbed not only the wound on his face, but on his pride as well. "What was _that_ all about?" he asked defensively, and his lover propped herself onto her shoulder, glaring at him with those deadly light brown eyes of hers. "Because," she started in a matter-of-fact tone, "Who would want to have a baby with _you_?" She laughed as she brushed black hair out of Diego's hurt eyes. He smirked. "_Well_, Miss Kitten, if that's your attitude about it, then don't think you'll ever get so much of a kiss out of me!" He turned on his side with that-away from Mia-and huffed. He could actually feel the guilty glace of his lover's eyes, and he smirked to himself, although showing no emotion with his back turned. He waited for her to say something.

This is why he practically jumped out of his skin when he felt Mia's light, warm arms wrap around him, and a rather uncharacteristic blush graced his face, like an angel's feather. He turned to look at her smiling face, which to him was a 100-watt bulb in the blackness of his bedroom. She leaned over the defense attorney's muscular frame and planted a kiss on his cheek, her hands tracing the muscles that made up his well-built arms. Diego smiled and suddenly pulled her over to him, making Mia shriek happily.

The two looked at each other for what seemed like eternity, each lost inside each other's eyes. Finally, the tan man bent his head downward, kissing Mia softly on the lips. She pulled him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss as Diego wrapped his arms around her thin waist, reaching tenderly for the lining of her matching pink panties…

xxx

He had made it all the way down to the bus stop when Dr. Kyung Shin felt that something was wrong.

He looked behind him curiously, raising an eyebrow. Well, he didn't _see_ anybody, but looks, as he learned, could be deceiving.

He knew that the words "Hi, I'm a rich doctor!" weren't floating over his head, but to be honest, he had never once felt safe in a big city. But this feeling was different. It wasn't insecurity, per say, more like he forgot something. Something vital. He shook his head and continued walking- _Probably nothing­_, he thought to himself. _Must be the hunger getting to you._

xxx

Diego watched his girlfriend clean the house with a smile, one hand on his hip and the other holding a white mug. Miss Mia Fey was defiantly a clean freak, he realized as he shook his head, taking a long swing of his black coffee. Women, he realized as he savored the bitter taste in his mouth, were weird. Each one of them had an odd hobby that they did when they were nervous: Some bit their nails or played with their hair, others cooked and cleaned. Diego had once had a girlfriend that did jumping jacks. But, on the other hand, at least he was getting a clean house out of it. He brought the mug up to his face again for another sip, and when he brought it back down it was staring straight into the light brown eyes of Mia Fey. He didn't react with shock- Instead, a suave smile. "Hey there, Kitten."

She smirked. "Don't you 'Hey There, Kitten' me, Diego.' She smiled as she gave him a peck on the cheek. In his distraction, she swiped the mug from his hands and took a sip, her eyes suddenly growing wide. She swallowed and handed him the mug. "It's bitter." She declared simply, and Diego sighed, looking back at the ceiling like he was dealing with a seven year old. He spoke. "Blacker than a moonless night and more bitter then Hell itself…" Another sip. "_That_ is coffee." Mia looked at him at if she had lost all hope. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're not Shakespeare?"

Diego rolled his eyes. "Shakespeare? Come on Kitten: Do I _look_ like the type of guy to run around in frills and purple tights?" He laughed at his own joke as he placed the drink down on the counter of the kitchen they stood in, wrapping his muscular arms around Mia's skinny frame. He kissed her neck. "Plus, I don't think you should be drinking stuff like that in your…_condition_." He smiled against the bare skin of her neck, nuzzling her with the black stands of hair on his head. "It might affect the little guy's heart."

It _had_ come as a shock. Diego had only been kidding that night. It was a good thing the joke had persisted, too: If he hadn't made Mia take that pregnancy test, they probably would have found out much later. Mia sighed, looking at her boyfriend.

"Come off it, Diego," she warned him, "It's too soon- It's probably stress." The man shook his head, making her giggle: The touch of his hair tickled- His head was, despite the many spikes, surprisingly fluffy. "Not so fast, Kitten. It's already been a week and a half, I'm pretty sure it's been long enough. Congratulations on wittle baby Armando, squirt." He rubbed the top of her head and she sighed.

"How would you know anything about that, Diego? Have you taken a pregnancy test before?" The defense attorney laughed. "Of course. I have millions of children, remember?" When the young woman looked up at him with confusion, he laughed again. "I'm God, remember?" Mia shook her head, laughing under her breath.

"If you're God." She started, "Then please, save me from my crazy boyfriend."

xxx

He was running now, the wind whipping through his bleached orange hair. Mr. Godot. That was the only thing that wracked itself through the young intern's mind. It wasn't the person, per say, just the name. He held dedication in his eyes; was this what they called the doctor's instinct? He flew down the sidewalk just as the bus pulled to a stop, opening its doors to let the passengers in. "Hey!" cried one of the men who Dr. Shin had been with, "Don't you want to get on the bus, buddy?!"

He didn't respond. He couldn't.

About half an hour later, Kyung Shin found himself at the apartment door of his patient, rain splattering him like clear paint. He was panting, his legs like Jello as he walked up to it, banging on the door with the remainder of the force he had (Which wasn't much). To his surprise, the door swung open, entering him into the hardwood flooring of the living room, the scent of pine hitting him. He rushed towards Godot's room, nearly having an encounter with a black coat rack. He swung the bedroom door open to find his patient sprawled out on the bed, his visor removed and his eyes shut. "Mr. Godot!"

xxx

"Huh?"

Diego looked up from his lover's neck wildly, causing her to look at him with confusion. "Diego? What's wrong?" He looked at her as if she were crazy. "You just said something…Didn't you?" Now it was Mia's turn to say it. "Huh?" Diego nodded, giving off a spooked look. "Yeah. You said 'Godot', didn't you?" Mia shook her head.

"Mr. Godot!"

There it was again. The defense attorney looked to his lover again for an answer, but gasped as he found himself hugging nothing but air, the floor he stood on beginning to swirl under his feet. He looked around with fright, the colors of the wall all blending together into an unforgiving abyss. Something in the back of his mind snapped, and his eyes grew wide. "No…Not yet!"

He looked up to an unseen God, his knees shaking. "Please…A little more time!"

xxx

"Please…Not yet…"

The Korean doctor looked down at his patient as he moaned softly, his eyes beginning to flutter open. Dr. Shin gave a relieved sigh, but then dropped down to a blank expression as the prosecutor's eyes fully opened, revealing two perfectly pale moons, no pupil visible. "K…Kitten…?"

So, the son of a bitch was blind.

The doctor shook his head, stroking back the white of his hair. "I guess there's nothing we _can _do for you, is there Mr. Godot?"


	6. Chapter 6

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Mr.Trite

Behind his metallic visor, two eyes that were moon-white glared at the man sitting across from them, filled with hatred, anger, and any other negative emotion you could squeeze in there. "I hate you." He had spat, "I really, really do." The man whom the comment was directed to simply shrugged, tossing his bleached orange hair out of the slanted eyes that he, too, possessed, but it was not due to anger; Rather, it due to genes.

"Believe it or not," started the man in the white coat, a slow grin coming onto his face as a waiter brought him the latte he ordered, the cup crème colored with little flowers decorating the outside, "But- It's really kind of funny- But I actually get _paid_ to save people's lives!" He faked a laugh, causing the white haired prosecutor to scowl. "I was_ fine._"

The two sat across from each other in a little café, only across the street from the house in which Dr. Kyung Shin had found his patient, who had been- for lack of a better phrase- stoned beyond all meaning of the word. Especially so since, just thirty or so minutes ago, the young doctor had held a little 'intervention'.

A failed one, apparently.

"So," began the doctor, pouring even more milk into his coffee, "Where'd you get the drugs, Mr. Godot? Care to share? I'm all ears." The stubborn prosecutor only took a swing or his coffee, which was truly, the doctor had to admit, blacker than a moonless night.

Looking up from the white mug that he drank from, the prosecutor stared at the doctor's hands for the longest time, and then spoke.

"That's a pretty masculine cup you've got there, Doc. Very fitting." Dr. Shin sighed, rotating the cup in his hands slightly.

"Well excuse _me_, Mister Macho-Man. I'm sorry I don't have a special mug that I demand my coffee served in at all costs."

As his patient continued to drabble on about the mug and it being one of his silly 'rules', Dr. Shin looked around as sipping his latte, which contained about four cow's worth of milk that he had purposely spilled into it.

It was a sweet little café, he'd give it that. Actually, it was kind of hard to believe that _this _was the café where his cranky, sarcastic, and all around asshole of a patient spent his mornings. Did he read the paper, thought the doctor, or perhaps look over a few case files? All in all, it was a hard picture for Kyung's mind to paint. His black eyes then traveled to the only counter in the whole place, where three staff members stood eagerly behind it, and they were all staring at the same spot: His table. He gulped. Had he done something wrong…?

No. He realized that each staff member held a particular gleam in their eyes, all identical. Was that…happiness? He looked over to the prosecutor sitting across from him, who was looking down at the table, his finger tracing over words left by a teenager with all the time in the world in his hands, along with a black pen. Kyung looked again to the waiters, and it took all he had to keep his jaw from dropping. _Does this guy really come in here __that much__ that the staff actually waits on him on their __hands and knees_

Now, with Dr. Shin's back turned, his patient was staring at him, burning a hole into his white medical coat and further down into his back. The young man turned to face him, an uncomfortable look on his face, cheeks slightly pink in color. If there was one thing he hated, it was being stared at.

"Uhm…Can I help you?" _Whoa_, his mind reminded his mouth, _Remember who you're talking to here! This isn't Dr. King, you know!_ Kyung cleared his throat, and his blush was soon replaced with a familiar smirk, arms crossed over his chest proudly as he flicked his bangs from his eyes. "Or are you finally ready to spill the pills—Err, beans?" Silence. Then, the prosecutor spoke, his words coming in slow.

"Your sweater…It's really ugly."

The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "You're impossible, you know that?" As he spoke, his patient looked out the window, taking a gulp from his white coffee mug, which was held firmly in between his two hands. "Are we talking to ourselves, Doctor?" he asked him, although not facing Dr. Shin directly. "Maybe you're the druggie here, not me."

Despite the attitude, Dr. Shin just smiled. "No, I think you're just driving me insane."

To the doctor's surprise, his patient laughed. "Well then, Mission Accomplished, Shinney-Boy. Mission Accomplished." A small chuckle escaped the young doctor before something in his mind clicked, and he stopped. "Hey." he warned, "Don't call me Shinney-Boy. And, for the record, my sweater is not ugly. I'll have you know it takes skill, making something like this."

The prosecutor wrinkled his nose. "You make your own clothes?" Dr. Shin nodded.

"Yes. It's always been a hobby of mine."

"What are you, some kind of sissy-boy?"

"At least I _have_ a hobby. Maybe you should get one too, do something that's actually _productive_ with your life? Hate to inform you, but shooting up on God-knows-what kind of drug isn't exactly a good way to pass the time."

"It's not a drug. Actually, it's more like…self-prescribed medication.  
"_Rrriigghhtt._ I _totally_ forgot heroin is considered medication now."

The white-haired prosecutor took a gulp of his coffee and slammed it down on the table, a few drops popping out of the empty mug like a jack-in-the-box. "Whatever."

As the hollow echo of the empty coffee mug hitting the table rang through out the small café, the three staff members from before came scurrying over like mice, carrying sugar, milk and of course, coffee. Coffee so black, it looked as though somebody had reached into the midnight sky one evening and took a chunk of it, preserving it until needed. Kyung looked into the glass pot with wide eyes, allowing his jaw to drop slightly out of place. _Jesus._ he thought in shock, _He drinks coffee that bitter…In just FOUR GULPS?! Oh boy, I think I have a totally different addiction case on my hands…_ He began to massage his temples as he sighed- He could almost see the paperwork piling up in front of him, his sharp Korean eyes suddenly droopy at all the confusing words he terms that he would have to read. To _write_.

As Dr. Shin tired to fight off early signs of hand cramps, while figuring out how the _hell_ he was going to write out all of that, let alone figure out how his patient didn't have a giant, burning hole smoldering inside of his intestines, the white-haired prosecutor smiled up at the trio that served him- A rare, honest smile that the doctor missed in his tumbling thoughts.

However, he _did_ notice the way one of the members of the staff- One of the two females in the group- started to blush furiously. Dr. Shin expected a laugh to come out of his patient at the woman's sudden burst of emotion, but his expectations were short lived. As a matter of fact, the man just kept on smiling- It was almost as if, he realized, that his patient couldn't see the blush at all.

"Thanks, Kittens." said the blind man with the charm of a true gentleman in his voice. And finally, with a regal wave of his hand, the three were ushered away, quick as the wind. The doctor could only shake his head in disbelief.

"This is incredible." He muttered, his bleached orange bangs falling over his eyes, "Absolutely incredible." The prosecutor turned to look at him, arching a white eyebrow.

"What?" The Korean just kept shaking his head. He looked down into the little cup he had been absentmindedly sipping from, the one with the little flowers decorating it. He stared into the pale pink inside of the cup, shining softly like a recently painted Easter egg.

"I've needed a refill for about twenty minutes, and you? You get one in less than twenty _seconds_. Why is that?"

At this, the prosecutor cracked a grin, taking a gulp of his recently poured coffee. "Maybe they hate you." he suggested, causing Dr. Shin to sigh yet again. He stared up to the ceiling with a smile, so small you might not be able to see it unless you squinted.

Or, in the case of the white-haired man, the man who didn't deserve to be alive, the man who couldn't save Mia Fey nor Diego Armando, maybe all it took was a man who had shared those same, sad smiles.

"Yeah," agreed Dr. Shin. "Maybe they do."

The prosecutor looked at him with a trace of emotion hidden behind a mask, and not just the one on his face.

"Nah. A well respected doctor like you…You don't know what hatred is, do you?"

With that, the man rose from his seat, looking at the doctor that had made his life hell, then down at the cup, and decided that now could be a good time to punch Dr. Kyung Shin straight in the jaw, much before he had a chance to answer the question.


	7. Chapter 7

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Mr.Trite

He had left before the sirens had gone off, marking the crime- _His_ crime, actually. However, that didn't mean that the prosecutor was going to look back at it, let alone feel badly about what he had done to the poor guy. Oh, no. That ass had it coming to him. Actually, as the older man walked away from the quaint little café, a smiled played onto his lips. What was he feeling? Ah, yes, that was it- Pride.

The prosecutor couldn't help but look back on it all- That helpless look on the Korean's face when he realized what was coming at him; the way his eyes had gone wide when his fist made contact with that pretty-as-a-picture face. Actually, the white-haired man wondering if he, too, had heard that satisfying _Crunch_! of the bones that shattered with the punch. He hoped the doctor's nose was broken. The thought brought a smile across his face. _Take That, pretty boy._

Looking back at the café, the man gave another smug smirk. Look at that. He saw the curious people that lived around the little coffee shop, flocking to the scene like brainless seagulls, attracted by the wailing sirens and flashing lights of the police cars, the ambulance on the way. Was Shinney-boy really that hurt? Nah, he doubted._ Probably crying about a broken nail, though._ He scoffed- Served him right.

_Whoosh._

The prosecutor looked down, an eyebrow cocked in confusion, an emotion that grew as he saw nothing by his feet. What…What the hell had that been? He could have sworn to have felt something brush against his leg.

Now, the prosecutor wasn't insane- Would you know if you were crazy? - So he couldn't have imagined it, not to mention there was no reason for him to. But…No. He had felt it as clear as day. Something _furry_ had rubbed up against his leg. Like a squirrel…or maybe a kitte—

"What the hell do you think you're _doing_?!"

He didn't need to turn around to know who _that_ was. A long, aggravated sigh escaped the prosecutor, and he shook his head, hand to his forehead. Oh, _grea_t. _Just _who he needed to see. The prosecutor didn't even need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. 'What do you want out of me?" asked the white-haired man, turning to face the person who had called out to him- With all the commotion at the café, there were only two people standing on the sidewalk- The prosecutor himself and he, his oppressor. "You are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I know. Go home." The other man's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Go home?" he asked absently, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Go…home?" When the prosecutor only nodded, the other man grew enraged.

"How can you tell me to just turn around and _go home?! _You just punched me the _face_, and now you tell me to _leave you alone?!_"

Dr. Kyung Shin was not amused.

The young doctor stood rooted to the spot, facing the patient who only looked at him, his mouth straight, expressionless. A thin trail of blood ran from the doctor's nose, coming dangerously close to rolling past his lips and chin. "Are you out of your friggin' _mind_? he asked with rage, his normally cool, calculating eyes flaming like the pits of Hell, "You could have _killed_ me! I could sue you for this!" As Kyung rambled on, his voice rose exceptionally, causing the few people around them to look over. But, the young doctor didn't notice. As a matter of fact, Dr. Shin's vision was so deep red with anger, he hadn't noticed that the man he was yelling at, his patient, had just started walking away. "I don't even know why I'm bothering to…HEY! Where do you think _you're _going?!"

The prosecutor simply chose to ignore the doctor. His hands were pressed into the pockets of his black slacks, suddenly feeling very cold. Dr. Shin's voice was like a little annoying fly in his ear, which only seemed to duplicate into two annoying flies. Four. Eight. Finally, he spun to face his annoyance- who now stood by his side- and gave an angry huff. "I don't even know what you're complaining about." He said, "You're not even _hurt_."

Dr. Shin's jaw dropped once more, and the prosecutor gave a rare, honest smile. It was kind of funny, he realized. The way the young man's eyes would bulge out of their sockets (Especially given their shape), and how his mouth was so round in disbelief that the white-haired man thought he'd be able to stick his entire head in there, like a lion tamer. "Tada." He whispered under his breath, a chuckle escaping him.

Ignorance was the best policy. "Mr. Godot." breathed the young doctor, shaking his head slightly. Kyung could taste it- That overly salty liquid that fell into his mouth like rain, yet it was sticky, like candy.

"Look at me. I'm _bleeding_." The prosecutor shrugged.

"Oh." He said simply, "I knew that." Kyung just kept shaking his head.

"If you knew that…" he started slowly, "Why didn't you comment at it? You're the type to crack a joke at the guy with the broken nose." So, he did.

"Yeah." laughed the prosecutor, "_Crack._ Like your bones." The man just kept on laughing- A deep, happy laugh that kind of reminded Dr. Shin of Santa Claus, except younger and more mysterious sounding.

"That," started Kyung, "Was the stupidest thing I have ever heard." And yet, even though that it truly _was_, in Shin's eyes, one of the worst jokes he had ever heard- They're always the worse when you're the butt of it- he couldn't help but laugh. His laugher was different from his patients, however- It almost sounded exactly like a 'Heh, heh, heh', while the prosecutor's was like a deep-bellied sort of chuckle. _I didn't even know this guy knew how to laugh_, thought the doctor, shaking his head through his giggles. _Doesn't seem the type_. Dr. Kyung Shin was a brilliant doctor for his age, and yet, he apparently just wasn't the best at picking up irony.

'Well, Shinney-Boy," As Kyung looked back up at his patient though his rare laughter, everything came flooding back to him. It was almost as if somebody had walked up to the man and said _Hey. This is the guy that punched you in the face, stupid_. Not to mention, Kyung realized with a growl, he had been addressed as 'Shinney-Boy' again. " But I really must be off now. I have work to do, and one Trite to beat next week. Catch ya later." He walked off with a wave of his hand, leaving one annoyed Kyung Shin. Who the hell was Trite?

"Wait!" he yelled after him, running after his patient, who was obviously paying him no mind, and had no plans to. Shin gave an angry huff.

"I don't understand you." Shin admitted, stopping when he realized that there truly was no point in chasing after his stubborn-as-a-mule patient. However, he _did_ cross his arms and stood with his right hip jutted out in aggravation, almost in a stance similar to an angry teenage girl. "I mean, here I am, trying to help you, but what do you care? I mean, do you normally do this to people that care about you, or do you hate them all just as much as you hate me?"

The prosecutor didn't know it was possible to feel fiery hot and chilled to the bone all at the same time.

He looked back at the young doctor, eyes dark behind his metallic visor. "What did you say?" he asked, anger in his voice. Anger that Dr. Shin obviously chose to ignore.

"You heard me." he dared, flicking bleached orange bangs out of his eyes. "It's like no matter what I do, or what I say, you always choose to ignore me, or make a witty comment. And that's _my_ job."

Obviously not sensing the death glares coming from his patient, Dr. Shin continued. "You always act you're the king of the world and, really? That's the one thing that truly irks me about people. You obviously must not know what it feels like, to have somebody that cares for you. And even if you did, I bet you'd wind up without them one day. That's just what happens to assholes like us- Trust me, I'd know."

Shin was going to continue up until he felt the sudden grasp around his neck and he looked up from his angered haze, gasping and then choking on whatever he had sucked in. He found himself looking up at the face of the younger man, feeling the light radiating from the three red beams streaking across his visor. The doctor felt like he was truly being burned.

"Let me tell you something, Shin." he spat, his grasp tightening around the young man's neck, "Watch yourself. I don't know who you think you are, or what kind of _doctor_ you think you are, but you? You don't know _anything_." He then let go, practically throwing the younger man to the floor, who gasped for his breath, doubled over. Kyung could only look up at his patient, still panting. "What…What do you mean?" he asked, fighting for his breath.

The patient only stared back. "She had meant everything to me." He said quietly, the wind picking up softly as the prosecutor turned his head, walking away from the doctor on the same path he had been on before interrupted.

Sadly shaking his head, Dr. Shin could only watch as he walked away, his arm still wrapped firmly around his gut. "Yeah." He whispered, slanted eyes filled with sadness, "That makes two of us."


	8. Chapter 8

My Medicine

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Mr.Trite

To most people, the gloomy pine tree that was rooted smack dab in the middle of Deer Trail park meant virtually nothing. Of course, it did provide some use- In the summer or late spring, it gave shade to pregnant mothers watching their already born children play tag in the grass. Sometimes, there would be a young college boy there with an acoustic guitar, playing along softly to whatever melody came into his head.

However, he wasn't most people. Far from it, actually- How many people got to die once on the outside, live, and yet still be decaying from the _in_side? Sighing, the white-haired man rested his head up against the tree trunk, shutting his eyes behind the metallic visor that marked him as 'different'- An outcast, if you will. Different from all of the happy people out in the world. Different from all the people that could still be saved.

Blindly, the prosecutor reached up behind him, his tanned, callous fingers running over the harsh ridge of the pine's bark, taking in the fresh scent surrounding him. This- The smell of pine mixed with recently fallen rain- was the scent of sadness. How on Earth could people use it in their _cars_? The man shook his head. Those were the people that never connected a smell to a memory, or see a rock and see the outline of her face. From behind his red visor, the prosecutor looked up at the green pine needles sheltering him from the oncoming rain. How weird, he thought, that you could rely on something so feeble for protection from the things you don't want to happen to you.

He didn't look back as his fingers traced the tough exterior of the bark- He knew exactly where he was going. After all, ever since _that day_, he had done this millions of times before. The prosecutor ran his fingers up and down the bark like the cart of a roller coaster, finally spotting the spot his was looking for- A small indent in the wood, in the shape of a plus sign.

xxx

_Beautiful. It was the perfect word to describe that day- Everything was just so beautiful. Or, at least in Diego Armando's eyes. He had never been a nature type of guy- Give him the newspaper and a steaming hot pot of coffee, throw him in a café, and call it a night. But, that wasn't the way angels spent their day. Angels loved going outside. Angels wore tight T-shirts and jeans that were tight around the waist, skinny at the legs, and flared out more towards the ankles. No wonder God liked them so much._

_Her rich, coffee bean colored hair swung around her as she ran, a smile as bright as the sun present on her smoothed, young face. She looked back at him, her latte eyes alive. "Come on, Diego!" she cried, ushering him forward with a wave of her hand. The man grinned. _

"_Hold up, Kitten!" he cried back, a smirk coming onto his face, "I'm too busy watching you run. Man, can you move." The defense attorney lifted an eyebrow, leaving young Mia Fey slightly confused. Then the joke hit her. It would have taken longer if they hadn't been seeing each other for so long. "Diego Armando!" she cried, anger in her voice. _

_Anger that, to Diego, was obviously feigned. So, what did he do? Easy. He just kept on pushing. "Come on, Kitten! You're always telling me how much you like fruit. I'm just admiring the…_ 'fruits of your labor'_, so to speak." Diego let out a strong laugh, and Mia's face turned red. "Aww, now look." He purred, "Now you actually look like a fruit- A cherry, maybe?" This wasn't meant to go with the flow of the other jokes, but it was obviously a misunderstanding on young Mia's part. _

"_Oh, cram it!" she spat, causing him to look at her with confusion. "Any more of that and you won't be having any more 'cherries' for a long time!" Stern, Mia looked at her boyfriend, daring him to continue. Finally, when he got it, it came out as a heavy barrage of laugher. Diego found himself on the ground, holding his gut as he doubled over with laughter._

"_You're better at this than I am!" he cried, nearly choking on his laughter. Now it was Mia's turn to be confused. One look in her eyes was all it took for the man to fall over laughing again, this time on his back. "Aha, oh Kitten, you'll never fail to amuse me!"_

"_You mean…You didn't mean it like…you know, _that_?" Mia rolled her eyes, blushing at her own mistakes. "Guess that makes me pretty stupid, huh?" At the accusation, Diego sat straight up._

"_Don't say that about yourself, Kitten." He chided, standing. "You're not stupid. If anything, _I'm _the brainless one in this relationship." Mia smirked._

"_Why is it when you or I call you stupid, it's okay, but when Mr. Marshall does, all Hell breaks loose?" A smug, smug smile came onto the male defense attorney's face._

_"Because," he explained with a thick voice, "Neil Marshall's an idiot himself, he has no right to call _me _stupid." Mia's giggle sounded like a bell. "Anyway Kitten, let's forget about Public Enemy number One, and let's get back to our date. Now, show me this tree of yours."_

xxx

The prosecutor closed his eyes, his head leaning against the park. Even now, he could almost smell her, and see the way she smiled every time he closed his eyes. It was almost too much to handle- He had loved her so much, it was like she was still there, trapped in his mind like a bottle. Except he couldn't get the cork off.

The memory didn't end there. His fingers moved up a little, instantly feeling the smooth, worn away part of the bark he was looking for: A carving in the wood, in the shape of an _M._ The white haired man's finger slid past the initial, where he felt yet another: _F_.

xxx

"_Is this even _legal?"

_Diego Armando sat and watched with wonder as the woman took out a pocket knife from the pocket of her low-rising jeans. "Surprised you didn't cut yourself." He commented, hand on his hip. Mia rolled her eyes._

_"I'm used to doing things like this." She explained, unsheathing the little knife in her hands. "My family, well…we do naturey kind things all of the time." Diego nodded as if he understood, even though it was clear that he wasn't. One look at his face and Mia began to laugh. "Don't worry," she confided, "We're not hippies or anything like that." Diego pretended to wipe nervous sweat from his brow. _

_"Well, _that's_ good." He laughed, "can't have little Diego Jr. growing up around pot, right? Might make his lungs mutate or something." Mia laughed lightly- That was a secret they both shared. Diego eyed the tree again, crossing his arms. "But you still didn't answer my question, Kitten- is this legal?" Mia laughed again._

_"Since when have you been such a stick in the mud?" she fired back, and Diego chuckled. "Guess you're right." He agreed, "But since I'm a defense attorney and all, I've just gotta know. Natural instinct, baby." Mia looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a doubtful expression on her face. _

_"Diego, when was the last time you ever won me over with 'baby'? If I was actually committing a crime, that wouldn't be the way to get an answer out of me." Diego smirked._

_"Oh?" he asked, running a hand down her leg, protected by the denim fabric of her jeans. Mia nodded, not watching him. The man then placed a hand on her shoulder, and when she turned around, he kissed her, their lips falling together beautifully, like puzzle pieces. _

_When they pulled away, Mia smiled into her lover's rich brown eyes, mesmerized. "I'm sure it's not a crime," she started, "To carve your initials into some silly old tree. Especially the initials of the one you love."_

xxx

The prosecutor pulled his hand away, as if being burned. He swore he could hear her voice, making that promise to him.

"It might not be a crime," he said to nobody in particular- There was nobody around him, the only ones willing to listen being the occasional bee that flew past, oblivious with a job of their own, "But it still hurt somebody in the end, didn't it?"


	9. Chapter 9

Uh yeah, those doctors from Chapter Three are all getting names now

Uh yeah, those doctors from Chapter Three are back, and some are getting names. Sorry for all the confusion back there! D:

And this chapter really doesn't have Godot or Mia in it, character wise, so I guess you could skip it if you're just reading this for Miego purposes.

My Medicine

A fanfiction by: Mr. Trite

"Goddamn!"

The cry of frustration was included with the sudden slam of a door, and with a huff twenty-six year old Kyung Shin walked into the doctor's lounge in the M. Edical hospital, looking like Hell itself. The sudden slam caused the other three in the room to spin around- Two men and a woman-, looking at the Korean like he was a bomb. One of the male doctors was first to make a move in the stunned-into-silence atmosphere, emitting a low wolf-whistle. "_Somebody's _a little cranky. Does Shinney-Winny need a nap?" Kyung gave the man a look that could kill. "Shut your mouth, Dusty, or I'll make sure to do it myself with a little Benzonatate." The man identified as Dusty burst into laughter, his long, dirty blonde hair swaying in it's ponytail as he did so.

Luke 'Dusty' Oplakia was twenty-nine years old, thirty in about two months. Known for running his mouth, he was Kyung's overseer for his first interning years and because of it, treated the young Korean doctor like a child. Kyung gritted his teeth.

"Whatever." He hissed, walking past Dusty as he plopped down on the worn white couch on the other end of the room, although it looked a lot closer to gray. Resting his feet up on the coffee- Ugh, _coffee_. The last thing he needed to be reminded of. - table, the man draped his arms over the back of the couch and gave a long, airy sigh, shutting his eyes. "I hate my life." He complained dully. Dusty crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

"Sounds like you had a bad day of babysitting today, Shin-Shin. Tell me, did the baby spit up all over the shirt you planned to wear to the prom?" Kyung opened one eye and looked Dusty over.

"At least I got _asked_ to the prom. And if you looked like you do now, I doubt your grandmother would ever take you." Dusty planted himself on the edge of the coffee table and shook his head.

"Hey Dr. King, can I take Ky-Ky outside and show him a lesson?" The oldest doctor in the lounge- Nearing fifty- sighed.

"Can't you two ever get along? What am I going to do with the both of you…?" The elder man just shook his head and went back to his conversation with a mousy, brown-haired girl, long and complicated medical terms flying from each other's mouths like arrows. The two young men both scowled something incomprehensible and looked away from each other.

After a while, Kyung piped up, stretching his arms and yawning. "Hey, Dr. King?" he asked, once again catching the older man's attention. Doctor Leo King, an incredibly intelligent and dedicated doctor coming very close to his retiring years, had never liked to pick favorites, but he knew a bright one when he saw one.

"What's the matter, Kyung?" he asked, his crystal blue eyes, which had captured the hearts of many young women back in his younger years, sparked with interest. Kyung looked up towards the ceiling, its paint beginning to peel around the corners.

"What's that Godot's guy's problem? You know, that druggie you assigned me to?" At this, the elder doctor's facial features went completely still, alarming Kyung. Oh crap, what did he say? "D…Dr. King?" he squeaked. Dusty concealed a snickered behind his hand.

"I think, Dr. Shin," started Dr. King slowly, rubbing his chin, complete with a beard well past that of 'slightly graying', "You of all people would know better than to say something like that." Kyung's eyes went wide, and he looked around him. Did anybody else think any different of that…? Nervous beads of sweat graced the young man's hairline. "After all, you _are _one of the hospital's brightest young doctors. It's a bad idea to call the patient of _the _brightest doctor by such a cruel insult, wouldn't you agree?" Kyung nearly broke into choruses of 'Hallelujah'- Dr. King knew psychology like the back of his hand. Those torturous moments had been punishment enough.

"Anyway, Mr. Godot has had what you'd call a…_difficult_ life. We know the health risks of his current stunts, but according to psyche upstairs, it's not hard to believe he'd resort to heroin as a way out. But, then again, you wouldn't need a psychiatrist to see that." Just then, the elderly doctor starting heading for the door out. Kyung frowned. And here he had been, hoping for a little more information than _that_. He leaned his head back against the sofa, but not before he met the murky brown eyes of Dusty Oplakia, which seemed to be leering over him with a look of victory. _Sucks to be you_.

"Dr. Shin?" Lifting his head, the young Korean man saw the veteran doctor from behind his bleached orange bangs, his hand on the door knob. "Coming along?" he asked. Kyung just about nearly leapt to his feet. "Coming, sir." Sticking his hands in the pockets of the home-made gray slacks he wore, Kyung followed after the older doctor, but not before making a cold, steely moment of eye contact with his blonde rival. _Have fun at clinic duty._

xxx

The white hallways of the hospital always had seemed endless to young Kyung Shin. Almost like an endless portal, captivated by snowfall. Sometimes he imagined himself as an Arctic explorer, trekking through the Hellish white tundra that most humans- _sane_ humans- would never dare to enter. The same could be said, he guessed, for wandering aimlessly down the hallways of hospitals. After all, you never knew what you'd run into next.

Finally, the duo of doctors stopped in front of an oak door, the glass of the door tinted so you couldn't see inside. Or outside, for that matter. The hand of Dr. Leo King rested on it's sliver handle, pushing the door open. "Step right in." he invited, and Kyung gingerly followed.

He had only been in Dr. King's office alone with him jut once before. It had been his first case as a doctor. He had watched his first patient- A mother of two- die after being struck with a sixteen wheeler. As a young, new doctor in the hospital, it was only expected of Dr. Shin is break into a fit of depression, padding around the hospital, useless and emotional. So, when he had come in the next day asking for his next case and telling Dusty that he could smell him from three miles away, it ha been a tad concerning. And when the doctor called Shin into his office to talk, he had gotten a lot more than he bargained for, thus cementing their relationship.

The thing that always amazed Kyung was the huge bay window on the other side of his superior's office. It looked out onto the entire city- The benefit of having one's office on the top floor of a hospital. Taking a seat in front of Dr. King's desk, Kyung admired the golden name plate on the doctor's desk, his chin resting in his hand. One day, Kyung wanted one of those. It'd make _Dusty _jealous, that's for sure. The confidence that then flowed through Kyung's veins must have showed on his face, because he soon found himself looking up into the confused eyes of Dr. King, whose eyebrow was raised. "I don't know what the smirk is about, but here, come look at this."

Interested, Kyung stood and took heed to the doctor's beckoning, joining the man behind his desk. Dr. King had logged onto the computer and was scrolling through names of previous and current patients- The names of current patients were in black, however the past patients name's were colored in red. All of that scrolling was giving Dr. Shin a headache. That's when Dr. King stopped. "Ah, here he is…" the older man muttered, clucking on a name. A _red_ name.

"Uhh…Dr. King, what are you doin--" The man found himself stopping short as the profile of the patient popped up. Kyung was sure his jaw was hanging ajar, eve if it was slight. The face that stared back at him was tanned, almost definitely belonging to somebody of Spanish decent. Confident black eyes stared directly into Kyung's, wild brown hair gracing the back of the man's head like wildfire. He had only seen this face once, encased behind a silver photograph. The name in the upper left-hand corner on the screen was one he did not recognize, but the face was definitely familiar. He had seen it in an apartment. _His_ apartment. "Armando, Diego…"

"Yes, that's correct." Dr. King spoke slowly, the blinking of the screen flashing against the doctor's crystalline eyes, "AKA… A certain Mr. Godot." Confused, Kyung shook his head, leaning in slightly as he peered at the screen. "But…Doctor, that's can't be right. Look, the date of death is sometime in 2012…That's six years ago. Mr. Godot just punched in the face today, trust me- He's very much alive." Dr. King looked up at Kyung and shook his head.

"Six years ago…We tried something we shouldn't have." This definitely caught Kyung's interest. Nothing better than a medical mystery. "A patient had been brought into the emergency room that day six years ago, poisoned. He was a seasoned defense attorney who knew his way around the court. As a matter of fact, he had just recently defended a then-intern of mine, so the case was a personal one. And well, obviously there was nothing we could have done…Nothing we _should_ have done. But, I wanted to be fair. This man was in his twenties, I just couldn't have his life end so suddenly- It just wasn't fair."

"Just a year before, an article had been put into the paper about a cure. A cure for the exact same poisons found inside of the victim. It was a risky and new experiment that should have only been used on the most important of people. I…I had ignored this rule, and used it. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't want to see this youth- This _child_ - die in front of me like that."

"He had been in a coma for years, and seemed to come closer and closer to death as the time went by. But, he had finally woken up early one morning, as I was drinking my morning coffee. Selfishly, I claimed it as a great success on my own part. However, that was the day I realized that being alive wasn't always for the best...Not that long before his revival, a woman very dear to him had been brutally murdered, and for that, he had tried to kill himself again and again…I thought we had solved the problem, but apparently not."

Looking up from his story, the two locked eyes. "Do you understand now, Kyung?" Dr. King asked, "Do you understand _why_ I assigned you to this case?" Shaken to the core, Kyung nodded. Had…had that all really happened? The young man couldn't imagine. "Good." Said the older doctor, "Now, I can't say for sure what Godot is up to now, but I'd check up on him as soon as possible- I'd give it a few hours. AKA, tomorrow." Dr. King then pointed on the little clock on the screen, indicating the time as 9:04PM. "Even babysitters need sleep, yes?" Kyung found it in him to chuckle lightly.

"I suppose so. Hey, Dr. King…" The elder doctor looked at the Korean man for an answer.

"Yes?" A smile crossed Kyung's face.

"Thank you."


End file.
